Ghost's Fury Chapter 29: Welcome to Dragon Training, a How to Train Your Dragon + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 29, everybody! Oh goodness I haven't updated this since last year *bricked*

In other news, happy escape from 2020! :D

And in this chapter, Hiro is learning how to teach and Obake's getting an idea of how useful Terrible Terrors are. Boulders-on-Hill just thinks they're annoying. We also once again reference the term 'long-paw' from Deadly-Bagel's fic A Gift of Wings, which I definitely recommend.

Also—yes, Obake's referencing the DreamWorks logo. XD

And it turns out that yes, be it scales, scutes, horns, fur, feathers, hair, or skin, it's all keratin. Very interesting. And that's not true, Hiro—Typhoomerangs like eels.

Okay, Boulders-on-Hill was aggravated at all the Terrors hanging out, but Hiro was ecstatic. For one, he had more dragons to teach about Yokai.

For another, being called Yokai-Tamer was good for the ego.

"Seriously?" Boulders-on-Hill demanded flatly.

"It's not my fault," Hiro tried.

"It is, actually," the one calico Terror said.

"Okay fine it is YOU try convincing a bunch of dragons your size about this."

"Fair enough," Boulders-on-Hill huffed, shooing some of the Terrors away so she could lay down.

"As for the rest of you!" Hiro said, bounding around before standing on the sand. "I am about to teach you a brand-new way to interact with the Yokai!"

Several Terrors oohed appreciatively, all of them crowding around to watch—he started with the most important scribble.

"See this?" Hiro asked, indicating the scribble. "This means 'fish' in the Yokai scribble-language. If you write it, then the Yokai gives you fish!"

"Really?" a red Terror demanded.

"Really-really. Watch." Chuff at Obake, who had been watching closely, write fish again, chuff at him.

"So the plan is to have a flock of Terrors mob me," Obake said, before eyeing the flock in question. Expression was evaluating, like he was debating the merits of this decision….

Gave him a fish.

"Take a whole turn, why don't you," Hiro muttered, slurping it up before turning to the Terrors. "So as you can see, Yokai respond to these specific scribbles! There's a lot more than just this one, though, but it's a good one to know."

The Terrors bobbed up and down at that—crowded around, trying to imitate the scribbles. Obake was watching closely, gave small fish to any Terror that got it right.

"You know feeding them means they won't go away," Boulders-on-Hill insisted. "Terrors are annoying."

"Excuse you," a teal one said, licking her eye.

"This is an important part of the plan," Hiro assured the Gronkle.

Thus went the next several days, since Hiro had to go over all the squiggles he knew. Boulders-on-Hill grumbled at having to retrieve large quantities of fish for the training purposes, was quick to forgive this when in his examination of her scales Obake scrubbed the dead scales from her wing joins.

"How are we looking?" she asked, glancing back. "Do the new scales look nice and fresh? Hey, NEW scales, why are you fussed about the old ones?"

Hiro glanced back, saw that Obake was indeed intrigued by the shed scales. "He did that with mine too—maybe they find scales interesting."

"Hmm," she noised, watching Obake for a bit before going over to a stalagmite and rubbing against it. "He can keep them—thin useless scales. Good eating means this batch'll be NICE and strong!"

"I've noticed the same thing," a purple Terror told her. "Fishing for myself is a LOT nicer!"

"Getting a Yokai to feed you is cooler though," a blue one insisted.

"Definitely," the blue one from the cove said.

"And I don't have that stupid bad-egg smell stuck in my nose anymore!" a green Terror cheered.

"See? See? We all agree that this is much nicer," Hiro said, dancing a little in place. "Come on guys, let's see how the squiggles are going."

Watch, nodding as the Terrors took turns scratching out the squiggles they knew, sand pile much increased once Obake had learned that asking the Terrors nicely to fetch more got them more in exchange for fish—Hiro had to tell them to quit before they filled the whole cavern, although Obake now had more of the carry-stumps. Hiro was guessing they had stolen them from the Yokai-nest.

Obake had filed that little piece of information away, he could tell.

"Okay," Hiro said, debating on what to teach next—didn't know what reason they'd have to learn how to write his name…maybe Obake's. start scratching that one out—

Startled back in surprise when a long-paw slammed into it—looked up to see Obake, expression muddied but giving off stern-worried.

"Not that one," he ordered.

Hiro blinked at him, not comprehending. Why not? Wasn't it important that they be able to use this one? What was he missing?

Huff, shake his head, glare at Obake—finally draw the questioning-mark Obake had taught him.

Obake looked them all over…sighed, shook his head. "Fine…we'll do a new one."

"Good," Hiro said, nodding. "Hey everyone, Obake's gonna teach us a new squiggle!"

Obake seemed to have no idea how to take every dragon in the cave crowding around to watch, or the Terrors crawling up to sit on his shoulders and watch.

"What have you done to me?" Obake sighed.

Hiro grinned, wiggling a little.

He had trained a Yokai, that's what.

So, good news, dragons were intelligent. Time for a radical restructuring of everything he knew to be true. In other news, be ready for there to really truly be a Sasquatch on Muirahara Island and for the gray shapes in the moon to really be a little boy fishing.

Because the Terrors—Terrible Terrors, considered to be the least intelligent dragons, no better than a mindless swarm—Hiro, another dragon, was teaching them how to write!

Now to be fair, he wasn't certain if the comprehension was there, but the fact that they were even able to attempt it at all was very impressive. Just…how.

And the fact that they were now all crowded around him and were excited about a new rune was…interesting. Ended up teaching them the rune for mountain, figured that would work. They seemed to prefer concrete concepts anyway, and he didn't have the patience to try to teach a flock of Terrors abstract thought. At least not today.

Fortunately, the Terrors had retreated to a pile of sleeping dragons, leaving Obake to examine the scales the Gronkle had shed earlier. Surprisingly thin for a Boulder-class dragon—he was almost certain he could snap a couple of these in half.

Did so, intrigued, studied the inside edge, wishing he could make it bigger to see the structure. Scales, dead skin clustered around it…didn't strike him as being very healthy. Certainly wasn't healthy if he could break it with his bare hands, no leverage or torque to speak of.

Look at the Gronkle, lying next to the fire—lean a little to take note of the scale beneath what he had removed.

"Hrrf?" the Gronkle noised, sitting up to look at him.

"I'm curious," he said, holding up one of the dead scales—the Gronkle considered, lifted a wing, watched him carefully as he poked it. Soft, which was what you'd expect from around an important join. Poke at it, rub his finger along it…not as smooth and sleek as Hiro's but definitely…healthier. Much healthier than the one he currently had.

Snort at that—of course a shed scale wouldn't look as well as one still on the dragon—sit back, contemplate this new little realization about dragons, take a second to marvel at the fact that such a dragon let him poke around such a crucial joint with no fuss.

"Wuff," Hiro noised.

"Contemplating a new aspect of dragon care," he explained, opening his notebook and jotting the information down, going from dry observation to juicy theorizing. Did dragons have a special diet for their scales? Were the scales made of some tougher keratin or some other material altogether? After all, hair and nails were made of the same substance, even feathers were—why not dragon scales?

Pity he had no way to test this.

Huff at that, tap his pencil on the edge of his notebook as he considered the dragons about him.

"Where do you lot even come from," he mused—wasn't prepared for Hiro to point one way, the Gronkle to point another. "Ah." Consider. "So it's two different flights attacking us. Interesting."

Hiro shrugged, the Gronkle nodding—

Seemed strangely pensive before pawing some sand over and writing a couple of runes. Obake leaned a little to look—

Mountain fire.

"You mean like lava? A volcano?" Interesting—as far as he knew there were no active volcanoes in the area. Not even dormant ones—those that he knew of had long gone extinct, collapsed into themselves to form calderas sheltering bays.

"Wherever you're from, it must have been quite a haul," Obake observed. "Either that or you're trying to tell me dragons just spring fully-formed out of a volcano, and I know that one's not true." Indicate Hiro. "If that were the case, you came out of the oven too early."

Hiro huffed, sensing he was being teased.

"Where is this mountain?" Obake asked the Gronkle, aware he was carrying on a conversation with a dragon. Watched as it pointed north. "I suppose there could be one up that way that we haven't heard of—no one pokes around much up there, except Vikings."

Felt his mouth twitch a bit at the memory of being taught about them—a strong breed of people, he had heard them described as, very hardy, open to trade but primarily warlike and much preferred fighting over all. Considering they considered a fighting death an honorable one, it made sense they were so battle-oriented.

All of it ridiculous, in his opinion. They'd have bits and pieces missing because they charged into a fight, the same as some of the idiotic Yokai (case in point: the ones during the latest Nadder fight). What good was getting into a fight you weren't assured of winning, honestly. Especially relying on brute strength—which he very much lacked. No, he'd rather not delve into that level of idiocy.

But they were considered dangerous, worth avoiding or treating with respect, alongside anyone who occupied islands anywhere near the Meridian of Misery.

It was one of the reasons he planned on not going north when he finally was free of this place.

Consider the Gronkle again. he supposed that, in a pinch, he could use it as a means of escape…but that would only really be in case of a dire emergency. For now, it was better to wait for Hiro's wing to heal. Plan for the need to get out, yes, but don't panic and push yourself into a corner.

That was all he could do at this point.

He risked sleep that night, woke up to find himself with the Gronkle as a backrest and a flock of Terrors as a blanket.

This was not preferable, for the record.

After a nerve-wracking hour when he was finally able to get out of the dragon-pile, he returned to his initial task of prepping up that inner cave, taking Hiro with him lest he get eaten. Hiro had followed along sleepily until following him back to the main cave to retrieve some of the other supplies, went back to the dragon pile to fall back asleep.

"Lazy," Obake said—got a snort in response.

Hiro did eventually find his way back in to sniff curiously at the work he had got done, was accompanied by several curious Terrors who fanned out and sniffed at everything.

"Well, what do you think?" Obake asked the little Night Fury. "Shelves, work tables, means to hide them all, a fire pit hidden from immediate view when not lit." Had taken some work to chip out a divot and collect the proper rocks to make it look like simply another rock formation, but there you go. "I think we're ready to move in, don't you?"

Hiro yipped excitedly, bouncing up and down on his paws before running around and back to him, warbling excitedly.

"Good boy," Obake said, scratching him behind the ears. "And I think, if these dragons are willing, we might finally be able to crack some of the secrets of dragon-kind."

Okay, so maybe that wasn't a good thing.

Hiro glared at the tame-fire being fed fish, debating over what Obake had said. Watched as he smoothed out the sand that the Terrors had been happy enough to fetch at the promise of fish, watched him watch the Terrors excitedly scribble into the sand and wait for fish, occasionally chirping in confusion as he corrected one of their scribbles.

We might finally be able to crack some of the secrets of dragon-kind.

"Does that sound like a good idea to you?" Imaginary-Older-Brother asked. "What kind of secrets? What is he planning on doing to you? To all of us? That mess out there—he could be planning to bring it to any nest in the world—no one is safe."

Okay, the good news was that was just worst-case scenarios. Bad news was…well, there was just something in the way that Obake approached things that made him leery. Obake approached new schemes like a hunter stalking his prey: intense and with singular focus. He'd tackle this new plan and rip it to shreds, Hiro was almost certain.

Which was precisely what he did the next several days, systematically testing for the knockout point on the Terrors and seeing if they too disliked eel (of course they did EVERYONE hated eels). Go over the scribbles again, brainstorm ways in which to free the other dragons.

Thinking about them made him feel like he had swallowed that eel Obake had brought—every passing day meant another one died in that kill ring, but unless he helped Obake with this they'd never figure out a way to save them. He had to fix this, and to do so he had to trust Obake.

Yes he was certain that sharing how dragons worked with this Yokai was dangerous. But that was a problem for future-Hiro, he decided—right now there were dragons in front of him that needed their help.

Pad up next to Obake, sit and huff at him to distract him from his scribbling on dry-leaves.

"You've seemed preoccupied," Obake observed, not looking up. "A penny for your thoughts."

"I—what?" Hiro asked, confused.

Obake glanced up at him. "I suppose dragons have no need for currency. Although I do wonder what's been occupying your thoughts as of late."

Hiro shrugged—it wasn't the sort of thing he could render down into the pawfuls of scribbles he knew. Hmm, maybe….

Draw the questioning-mark, look at Obake, start writing down the scribbles he knew. That was usually good for getting Obake to show him some fresh ones.

It worked this time too, and it was an endeavor that nicely distracted him for a while. Curl up next to him when they started to blend together, start to doze off as the other dragons did the same—

"Hello? Hello is anyone here?"

Everyone twitched to alertness at the sound of a new dragon's voice—what to do what to do—wait! They had been playing with how sound worked in here—

Angle himself, bellow "WHO DARES TO ENTER MY DOMAIN?"

"Oh 'gon—peace! Peace! I come in peace!"

Glance at Boulders-on-Hill, who shrugged. "ENTER."

A horned snout nosed its way in, followed by the rest of a frightened Nadder, trying to see everywhere at once—

"Wait—that's it?" he demanded, spines lifted in surprise as Hiro and Boulders-on-Hill started laughing. "I thought you were like this big huge scary dragon!"

"It's called 'using your environment to your advantage,'" Hiro declared smugly, parroting one of the things Obake explained about the traps he set. Oh wait speaking of—"This is my Yokai, Obake, who I have tamed. No being mean to Obake."

The Nadder squinted at Obake, currently eyeing him warily. "That IS that weird Yokai I saw in that death gully!"

"It's called a kill ring, actually."

Boulders-on-Hill sidled up to him, wiggling in happiness. "I'm glad you decided to come back."

The Nadder ducked his head. "W-well…I wasn't thrilled about…you know…it's a big world when you're by yourself…."

"Understandable," she said—looked at Hiro. "This is Gleam-Scale, he was with my flight."

"Very cool," Hiro said, nodding and not feeling so bad for not recognizing the Nadder—wasn't from his flight so he wouldn't. "So you're going to be joining us?"

"Maybe?" Gleam-Scale hedged.

"Very good. But the first thing you must do, to prove your worth, is to let this Yokai touch you," Hiro said, pointing at Obake, who glared at him.

"You must have this shill down to an art form now, don't you," he asked flatly.

Gleam-Scale snorted at that. "I don't know—"

"You have to, it's the rule," Hiro insisted.

"It'll be fine," Boulders-on-Hill assured him, padding closer to Obake to demonstrate. "He's actually surprisingly tame."

Gleam-Scale hesitated, hedged….

Finally started mincing closer.

"Good, good, you don't want to startle him," Hiro said, nodding. "But maybe a bit faster than ice floe, I'd like to get this done while I'm still a hatchling."

"This thing is a KILLING MACHINE give me a break!" Gleam-Scale snapped—flinched when he noticed Obake flinching. "Um—"

"Oh yeah," Hiro said smugly. "SO dangerous."

"Just let the stupid Yokai pet you," Boulders-on-Hill sighed.

Gleam-Scale swallowed hard, turned his head a little and closed his eyes—Hiro chuffed at Obake, gestured with his head—

"If this kills me I'm coming back and after you," Obake told him flatly. Gingerly considered the Nadder, carefully reaching forward—

Hiro steadied himself in case he had to act, noting Boulders-on-Hill readying herself on his other side—

Gleam-Scale's eyes snapped open when Obake touched him, causing him to flinch away.

"Nope, doesn't count," Hiro insisted. "Proper touch, more than one second."

"You're killing me," Gleam-Scale whined, wincing as Obake put his hand back on his jaw, twitching when he started nibble-grooming—"No wait what is this what's it doing—oh wait that feels good lower lower—"

"Well," Obake said, looking and sounding pleased as he lifted Gleam-Scale's head a little. Looked the dragon over. "Seems we have a new member to our little club. We could work with this."

Perfect.